Don't Wait Up
by Jemmiah
Summary: Anakin is determined to make certain ObiWan enjoys himself at a social gathering but will his plans backfire?


Don't Wait Up

By Jemmiah

"…Just remember to keep your wits about you. Whilst I feel certain there's nothing more sinister at work than soggy custard tartlets and stale sausages on sticks you can never tell what's around the corner." Obi-Wan scratched thoughtfully at his beard, glancing in almost disdainful fashion around the room. The older he got the less he found himself enjoying these pointless social gatherings, especially as he considered his own presence at the party to be completely incomprehensible. Unfortunately the hostess had been extremely insistent…

"I don't even know why we're here." He added coolly.

Anakin didn't even attempt to hide his smile. At nineteen years of age he was confident, capable and talented at reading situations, but on this occasion he didn't need his superior force skills to recognise the truth of the matter, even if his master was content not to see it.

"It's because Lady Eeo-Shaa has her eye on you, master." Anakin's mouth turned up even further at the corner, although this time he endeavoured - for his own sake - to hide his expression behind his glass of Sylba wine. He sensed rather than saw his master attempting not to choke on his drink, not to mention the accompanying shudder that seemed to run the length of his spine.

"If that was a joke, young Anakin." Obi-Wan said stiffly, having recovered his composure slightly; "It was in poor taste."

The padawan's blue eyes roved around the room. It was a pretty impressive collection of people when all was said and done. Senators, dignitaries, ambassadors, holo stars, so-called 'personalities', sporting greats…all kinds of people from every conceivable walk of life mingled and rubbed shoulders within Lady Eeo-Shaa's ludicrously expensive and tasteful ballroom. Species that Anakin hadn't even seen before populated every space within the room. Not even when he'd lived on Tatooine dealing with the spacers and traders that would frequent Watto's shop had he seen such a variety of personages. Of course in a way his master was correct, he reasoned quietly, sipping the mulled wine from his glass: the display of greatness only served to make the presence of two ordinary Jedi stick out like ticks on a Hutt's back. And what other reason could there be for their invitations except one…

"She has the hots for you." Anakin repeated, not remotely putout by his master's death-glare. "It happens, so I'm told. When you rescue people they feel like they're indebted to you for the rest of their life."

"I _didn't_ rescue Lady Eeo-Shaa." Obi-Wan sounded extremely wounded by the suggestion.

"That's not what she told me." The apprentice intersected his master's reply with that of his own. "In fact she hasn't been able to stop talking about it all evening. Or you." Anakin turned to face the table, pretending to study the plateful of dainty flans and candied fruits, yet still managing to note the faint sheen that appeared across his master's brow. Poor Obi-Wan always seemed ill-at ease at such functions whereas he, Anakin, never felt so much at home as when meeting new people. He liked to look at each individual who walked by, trying to guess who they might be or what they did as a profession. His master always seemed disinterested at best, and at worst anxious at his padawan's lack of social graces.

Staring at people did tend to put them on guard, after all.

There were lots of really pretty young women that evening, too, and Anakin wasn't ashamed to look them over. Not in an especially lascivious way, but in his own mind he found himself constantly comparing them to Padme, his memories of the then teenage Queen of Naboo mixing with those of more recent holo broadcasts of the beautiful young senator. Everyone in the room came up short in comparison, he found himself thinking idly, although certainly there were one or two who could - in the right light - come not too far behind.

His master would probably break out in a cold sweat at the idea of looking at a pretty girl.

This was something that Anakin found somewhat odd. He'd heard one or two mildly surprising rumours regarding his master and some mystery young women, although the source of the rumour (one Toms Yarrel, his close friend and confidant) insisted that the dalliance was long since over, and hadn't been at all well received by the Jedi Council at the time. That his master had risked the wrath of the council had both intrigued and even pleased Anakin, for it was rare that Obi-Wan ever seemed to do anything remotely against the letter of the rule. Perhaps there was more to the man than he was usually prepared to give credit…

"I just happened to be underneath the balcony when she fell." Obi-Wan looked distinctly uncomfortable, feeling even more out of place as a loud gaggle of Gabali players (all of them distinctly good-looking and impossibly tall) made their way through the crowd, lazily greeting anyone and everyone who glanced their way. It appeared to be the Corellian Blades, Obi-Wan thought silently, who had won the Gabali league two weeks ago, and who by the looks of them would be celebrating until the start of the next season. Surely just the sort of spectacle that Jemmy might once have enjoyed.

Then again Jemmy hadn't had much to celebrate of late. Not after Han…

"You saved her life." Anakin reasoned, popping an iced petal fruit into his mouth.

"She nearly ended mine, as I recall." Obi-Wan subconsciously rubbed at his ribs as if the memory was still fresh and painful: literally, in that instance. "I am as much an advocate of peace, protection and safety as the next Jedi, but I did not expect that courtesy to extend to being used as a trampoline." He paused for a moment, reflecting on the incident. "Anyhow, you were there as well."

"So?"

"Perhaps it's not me she has her eye on." Obi-Wan felt a small, satisfied smile tug at his lips. "Perhaps she's using me as an excuse, and it's really my young, dashing padawan learner that she 'has the hots for' as you so quaintly put it."

Anakin swallowed the petal fruit whole and stood, stunned and shocked at the thought. Certainly she'd been making a lot of fuss over his master, but who was to say it wasn't a clever ruse to get closer to him? He had read that those sorts of things happened all the time, at least according to the Holonet! Some old, has-been ex-society belle with an eye for a pretty face? Suddenly Anakin had a whole new perspective on exactly how his master had felt whilst enduring his teasing. It just didn't bear thinking about.

"With all due respect, master," Anakin's voice sounded less self-assured than before, "I think you must have that wrong. For a start, she's old!"

"I thought you once said that the definition of old was precisely fifteen years older than the age you currently are?" Obi-Wan quoted back at his padawan, taking a certain amount of pleasure in observing the way that Anakin was now wriggling about like a worm on a fishing hook.

"Exactly! She'll be perfect for you, master. I'm way too young. Besides, Jedi aren't supposed to crave that sort of thing." The apprentice stammered his excuse hastily; increasing Obi-Wan's amusement tenfold.

"That's not what you told me last week when you were admiring Padawan Sabra-Ni working out in the training rooms." Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled mischievously as Anakin blushed slightly at the implied rebuke; attempting to muster as much dignity as he could find. "I do believe - correct me if I am wrong on this - that you said that it was perfectly acceptable for Jedi to cast their eyes far afield every now and again…that even if we were supposed to have a serious and contemplative mind we weren't expected to live like monks. And that it was only natural to want to enjoy ourselves every now and again. Didn't you say this, infact," Obi-Wan tapped his beard with his fingers, "just after I caught you coming back from Madam Yings?"

Anakin's face went from mildly pink to an unhealthy red shade in the space of a few seconds.

"I thought my memory wasn't defective." Kenobi chuckled, clapping his poor, beleaguered padawan on the shoulder. "And I suppose whilst we are on the subject we should discuss the nature of your punishment."

The padawan groaned. Typical of Obi-Wan to bring up such a matter when they were away from the temple supposedly enjoying the famed hospitality of their host! He just seemed incapable of switching off! No matter where he went or in what company the man was unbending and unerringly Jedi to the core! Still, Anakin realised, if it was a chore for him to chafe under Obi-Wan's rigid gaze then how terrible it must be for Obi-Wan himself not to be able to unwind and relax? Imagine going through life in such a way? Dismissing Toms claims of an old love affair with some mystery girl as fantasy on the Corellian's part, Anakin decided that before the evening was out he would help his master to…to…well, just relax! And what better way to relax than in the company of a pretty woman?

"My punishment?" Anakin blinked. "Am I not a little old for punishments?"

"You are_never_ too old for punishments. Just ask Master Windu. Why do you think Master Yoda walks around with that stick? It's not just for walking with, let me assure you." Obi-Wan insisted, wondering if he had ever been so much trouble to his own master as Anakin was proving. "Padawan, it's not the visiting of that 'establishment' that bothers me. You're old enough to make up your own mind on such things, although frankly why you would 'deliberately," he emphasised the word, remembering his own unscheduled stop at Madam Yings after the infamous cantina crawl of recent years, "choose to go to somewhere so tacky is beyond me. No," he frowned, "it's the fact that you lied to me as regards to where you were that I find slightly objectionable."

"I'm sorry, master." Anakin tried and failed to sound contrite.

"And I think that Master Miasu is looking for a volunteer to assist in her cultural studies lecture." Obi-Wan answered with such finality that the seemingly innocent and innocuous statement rang out like the death toll of a large, heavy bell. Anakin processed the information for a moment, wondering what precisely his master had in mind. And then it fell into place…

"Master Miasu is teaching flower arranging and the history of embroidery and Thrasic Needlepoint!" Anakin's eyes grew simultaneously wide and horrified.

"Just so, padawan." Obi-Wan nodded.

"You want me to help teach flower arranging?" Anakin's chagrin multiplied tenfold. "I'll never live the humiliation down!"

Obi-Wan shrugged, as if to suggest he didn't really care one way or the other.

"Do as you feel your conscience dictates, Anakin. But I suggest that you think about it, and not before too long either. Who knows what else I could come up with before the evening is out…"

Alarm bells sounded once again inside Anakin's mind. Obi-Wan, for all that he seemed so inflexible and by-the-book, was both imagination and resourcefulness personified - and he took the mild warning immediately to heart. Yet the idea of himself, a man who had recently turned nineteen years old, having to assist in sticking plant stems in vases (and he didn't particularly like flowers, either) caused his teeth to automatically grind. The sooner he found some hapless woman to chat up his master and take his mind off things, the better!

So thinking Anakin spared the large assemblage of persons another sweeping glance. Certainly there was a fair selection of womanly beauty on display, tastefully exhibiting their charms to the multitudes with perhaps a little more good breeding and elegance than he might expect to find at Madam Ying's brothel. Still, no matter how one tried to dress it up (or in this case down), the fashions were remarkably daring, with plunging necklines and slashed hems all round: sin masquerading under the pretence of sophistication. Women of every shape, size and species gathered in unspoken competition like hen birds around garishly displaying males. Anakin grinned to himself, laughing at the obviousness of it all. At least at Madam Ying's there was no such dishonesty: what you saw was very much what you got, and you either liked it or you took your money elsewhere.

"The women look very…er," Anakin tried to find a diplomatic word, "Lovely. Don't you think, master?"

Obi-Wan arched a single eyebrow that sign-posted his suspicions as to where the conversation was leading.

"Beauty, it is said, is in the eye of the beholder." Obi-Wan looked up from his drink and followed Anakin's gaze to the far end of the room, where a large crowd of Gabali players had descended upon what appeared to be some poor unsuspecting female. "However," he added cautiously, "In this instance I am prepared to agree with you."

Anakin blinked, twice. "You do?"

"I say as I find. There are some attractive young women in this room. Although it all depends upon your point of view, young padawan." Obi-Wan knocked back his drink in what appeared to be a single, seamless gulp that had Anakin reeling in surprise. "What _we_ might regard as attractive might not exactly whet the appetites of a Hutt, or the other way about. Not unless Tug-My-Slug is your idea of reading material…"

"Tug-My-Slug?" Anakin's upper lip curled in disgust. "What is _that?_ On second thoughts I don't want to know! Nor do I want to know how _you _know!"

"There's much you don't know about me, Anakin." Obi-Wan replied mysteriously, frowning at the large crowd of rowdy Gabali players swarming all over the hapless young woman who appeared to be giving them little encouragement. She was about the only one at the party who appeared not to be openly trying to attract attention, but it was perhaps this stoic lack of interest that was so enflaming the surrounding, testosterone-filled sports stars. "Look at them. It's like a pack of cannoids in search of a human leg…"

Wine had obviously made his master bold, Anakin decided. Or drunk. Whichever it was the padawan wasn't terribly sure he cared for Obi-Wan's unguarded opinions…not unless he could capitalise on them. Deciding that now was as good a time as any to put his plan into action Anakin attempted to knock back his wine the same way his master had, only for most of it to run down his chin and neck. So much for attempting to appear suave…

"Why don't you go save her?" Anakin wondered outloud. "I mean, she's bound to be grateful. Women just seem to love it when you rescue them. Lady Eeo-Shaa hasn't been able to take her eyes off you all evening." He nodded at the distinctly lust-filled Antemenon female, with her larger than life smile, complete with larger than life personality and larger than life hair, who offered the pair of them an unsubtle wink. "And she's by far the prettiest girl in the building."

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed once more. "You think so?" He asked.

"Undoubtedly." Anakin smiled, running his eyes appreciatively over the nicely proportioned figure in the dusky pink dress. "She has a nice smile…at least I think she would have if she ever got rid of the Gabali freak show. Nice hair, nice legs…everything seems to be in the right place."

This time Obi-Wan stared balefully at him, not so much as twitching a muscle.

"Sorry master." Anakin grinned again, delighted at Obi-Wan's discomfort. "Look, I'll make a pact with you. I will take my punishment and assist Master Miasu for a whole week in the cultural lectures - I'll even let her weave garlands into my braid - if you go and chat up that girl."

That had taken the wind out of Obi-Wan's sails, Anakin noted gleefully. The very idea seemed distasteful to his master, although Anakin couldn't discern why. What was wrong in engaging a beautiful young woman in conversation? He wouldn't get thrown out of the order just for that heinous sin! Sure, she wasn't as radiant as Padme - but then again nobody was. Still, there wasn't _much_ in it…and if Obi-Wan didn't do the decent thing then Anakin was pretty much set on attempting to rescue the damsel himself. Who could say how grateful she might be?

"She looks lonely." Anakin observed, watching the way she valiantly tried to ignore the ant-like swarms of hormonally charged men all attempting - and failing by the look of things - to engage her attention.

"She looks bored." Obi-Wan shrugged. "And how one can be lonely with these hordes of attendant mutants I fail to see…"

Anakin's smirk informed his master that he had known all along he'd refuse to accept the challenge, especially one so dishonourable. Honour was everything to Obi-Wan, and his padawan knew it: playing on the fact to use it to his advantage. Flirting with an innocent young lady just to win a wager? Or maybe just to prove that there was still a man swathed beneath the Jedi robes? That was not his style. And yet Obi-Wan had not lied when he'd told his padawan there was much about himself that Anakin did not know. Perhaps now was the time that he called the young man's bluff…

"Very well." Obi-Wan said briskly, pulling at the fabric of his cream tunic to smooth out the creases. "I accept your challenge." Out the corner of his eye he could see Anakin's jaw almost dislocate itself as surprise gave way to outright shock. He gave his hair a casual smooth over with one hand, whilst adjusting his belt with the other. "You are permitted to watch and learn, young Anakin. As I will be doing when you attend the flower arranging class tomorrow…"

Anakin got the impression that Obi-Wan was relishing that prospect entirely too much. They were friends as much as Master and Padawan, and in some ways like a father and son: that was to say that they disagreed and traded good-natured insults in the way that Anakin imagined close family might. Obi-Wan felt no outward rivalry, or was even attempting to steal the young woman away from him, but Anakin felt certain within his bones that Obi-Wan was determined to assert his authority even in what was an essentially trivial, almost contemptible exercise.

That, and make sure that he took his punishment like a good padawan.

The Gabali team seemed to melt away as Obi-Wan swaggered jauntily up to the beautiful woman, carving a path through the astonished ranks of toned and muscular, bronzed sportsmen like a hot knife through Nerf's cheese. Intrigued, Anakin observed the astonished and somewhat baffled look of the Corellian Blades team manager who had evidently decided that the young lady was either too far out of his league or simply didn't go for 'real men'. The others formed pensive, cliquish huddles as Obi-Wan presented himself to the woman with a slight bow of the head, clearly wondering what manner of mind-trick the Jedi had pulled in order to steal an audience with the belle of the party. But then, Anakin reasoned, Corellians were like that: clannish, thick-skinned and inclined towards self-adoration. He'd never yet known one that didn't fall into such a category.

Anakin could just about see the woman's face, although largely masked by the back view of his master who stood for several minutes making polite conversation with her, which in itself was a minor achievement considering the way she'd dismissed her collection of square-jawed hangers-on with barely a word of acknowledgement. From what he could see the pretty lady appeared to listen intently to Obi-Wan, nodding every now and again in reply to something he had said. Her expression at first had been one of astonishment when the Jedi had first made himself known to her, then curiosity, and then finally interest as the conversation continued. As for Obi-Wan, he seemed surprisingly at ease.

From the other side of the room Anakin could see Lady Eeo-Shaa waving at him, and remembering Obi-Wan's words of warning pulled his attention rapidly back to his master, who was…kissing the pretty humanoid female on the cheek!

Anakin found that even his inner voice had been rendered temporarily speechless by Obi-Wan's gallant and courtly manners, but even more so by the reaction of the lady whose soft, red lips returned the favour by firmly planting a friendly kiss at the side of Obi-Wan's face! He watched in horrified fascination as his master bowed once more over the slender white hands of the stranger and proceeded to kiss them, too! This worried Anakin for reasons that he couldn't quite fathom…this was not the proud, stiff, inflexible Obi-Wan Kenobi he knew and loved. Someone had swapped his master with the gracefully ageing lothario Dex Berlingside. Who was this impostor, and what had they done with Obi-Wan?

The young woman spared Anakin a inquisitive glance from behind Obi-Wan's shoulder, then after a moment treated him to a hesitant smile which, after he'd gotten over his surprise, caused the padawan to rapidly upgrade his opinion of her beauty from 'slightly behind Padme' to 'extremely-near-but-not-quite'. Evidently his master had been similarly impressed because as he stalked his way back across the room towards his padawan he sported a smile that could only be described as similar to the proverbial 'Togorian who got the cream'. Anakin was tempted to roll his eyes in disgust but in truth felt himself being rapidly consumed with eager curiosity. Who was the beauteous temptress? What did she do for a living? Where did she come from? What had they spoken about that had so captivated her where all others had failed?

"Well?" Anakin breathed impatiently as Obi-Wan stopped at the elongated long table apparently wondering whether it was worth his while attempting to find anything vaguely edible. He hovered indecisively for a moment by a batch of tiny breaded Tooni-Fowl eggs before deciding it was a hopeless task, sensing Anakin's growing anticipation of a good story.

"Well what?" Obi-Wan replied dryly.

"What did she say?" Anakin prompted enthusiastically, noting the way that all the eyes in the room were now focused on the Jedi, not just those of the distinctly putout Lady Eeo-Shaa and the Corellian Blades Gabali team. "Was she grateful to you for rescuing her from her would-be suitors?"

"Very." Obi-Wan nodded, watching the young woman weaving her shapely way towards the exit in search of the cloakroom and her coat. "So grateful infact that I've been invited back to her apartment for supper." As Anakin's eyes nearly bugged out of his head Obi-Wan couldn't resist but throw him a wink. "So if you'll excuse me, it would be inappropriate to keep the lady waiting. I would make the most of the evening if I were you." He patted Anakin on the shoulder to show there were no hard feelings. "I think I can see Lady Eeo-Shaa looking for some company. Alternatively you could get an early night in preparation for your long week ahead with Master Miasu. You know how she likes to get things exactly right…"

Anakin stood rooted to the ground, completely numbed. Was this justice? To see his master waltzing off into the distance on the arm of a pretty girl whilst he had an evening to contemplate flower arranging and needlepoint? And what made it worse was the fact that he was the one who had set the whole thing up!

"I think the force hates me." Anakin muttered under his breath, not quite loud enough for Obi-Wan to hear. It didn't matter, however, for if the words were inaudible then the sense of piqued injustice was easy enough for Obi-Wan to detect. He paused long enough to shoulder his way into his long robe, grinning at Anakin in a relaxed and carefree manner that quite transformed Obi-Wan's usually serious features.

"Oh, and Anakin." He added, eyeing the waiting female at the doorway.

"Yes?"

"Don't wait up."

And with that final piece of advice Obi-Wan swaggered through the party revellers, hooking his arm through the woman's own, and headed out of sight leaving a crestfallen and deflated Anakin behind him.

Out on the streets Obi-Wan couldn't help but reflect on what had been a very successful lesson for Anakin. Not that he would be able to appreciate it at the time, but perhaps later on when one or two things became clearer he might finally begin to respect his master's quick wits and ability to think on his feet.

"I warned him there was much he didn't know about me." Obi-Wan chuckled, looking across at his partner. "It suddenly struck me that the pair of you had never been properly introduced. So, why not use that to my advantage?"

Jemmy offered him a reluctant smile. "You knew he would pick me for his dare?"

"But of course." Obi-Wan nodded as they walked past the familiar illuminated figure of a mermaid-like Keltorus statue that sat amidst a grand Corellian-style fountain, the gentle sound of fine water spray filling the air with a faint hissing noise. "He was right. You were by far the prettiest girl at the party. I knew the moment he challenged me that his eyes would alight upon you. But in setting me up for a fall he only managed to dig himself further into a tight spot. If he'd known who you were he wouldn't have fallen for it."

"So, you're saying I'm easy to chat up, is that it?" She asked him, her eyes sparkling, daring him to agree.

Obi-Wan smiled back. It was so long since he'd seen Jemmy even pretend to be happy that he counted the evening as nothing short of a triumph.

"I knew that you would perhaps treat me with a little more civility then any other stranger might have." Obi-Wan admitted cautiously. "To tell the truth Rela did mention that you were going to be there, although I didn't expect the Corellian entourage that accompanied you. But at least we'll have given Anakin something to ponder, don't you think? I believe we excited some gossip as we left."

"Such a little thing to excite." Jemmy tutted at Obi-Wan, hooking her arm even tighter through her friend's arm as if to give the gossips further ammunition to speculate. "Come on, then. I'll cook supper. And you can sleep on the couch, if you want to stay over. After all, you can't go back just now." She leaned heavily against Obi-Wan's arm. "It would give Anakin entirely the wrong impression!"

"Oh, don't worry about Anakin." Obi-Wan said breezily, content to continue their walk at a slow and measured pace so that he might enjoy his triumph all the more. "He will have plenty of things on his mind other than what I may or may not get up to this evening. I had a discrete word with Lady Eeo-Shaa just before we left and managed to persuade her of my padawan's undying devotion to her and suggested that if she were ever in need of a soft landing again she could do no better than Anakin. The poor boy is probably as we speak trying to defend himself armed with only a few cold guelm sausages and a rubbery slice of Sand-Dune pizza."

Obi-Wan allowed himself to bask in his own victory for a bare fraction of a moment. Lady Eeo-Shaa was evidently a very determined woman.

"I only hope," he grinned mercilessly, "that Anakin bruises less easily than I did when she quite literally fell for me!"


End file.
